


A Fitted Suit (made of skin)

by tawg



Series: tumblr ficlets [7]
Category: Marvel Avengers Movies RPF, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Gen, M/M, is it masturbation if someone else is controlling the hand?, possession by character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-12
Updated: 2013-10-12
Packaged: 2017-12-29 04:10:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 555
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1000709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tawg/pseuds/tawg
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's a matter of getting into character, but it's not exactly one-sided.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Fitted Suit (made of skin)

**Author's Note:**

> This ficlet was originally posted on tumblr, and can be found [here](http://tawghasa.tumblr.com/post/51708448498).

It’s hard to pin point when it starts. Where he starts. After the shower, certainly. Common sweat and dirt are not alien things, but there’s a clean neatness that is integral. The scrape of a razor along jaw is an important precursor, is a remote form of foreplay. Angled sharpness shaving away salt and pepper stubble, slicing away character traits. Clean face staring at clean face, but there’s still only one person present so far.

There’s a trace of him in the cologne. One that is never worn otherwise and at first that had been a coincidence and then it had become a little quirk that a character actor had seen the value of maintaining, and then it had solidified. Scent that is darker and broader, something expensive and understated and the intent application changes the nature of the skin beneath it. 

Socks and underwear are fleeting things. Watches have changed. Sunglasses have been lost and broken and replaced. Buttons or cufflinks and the devil certainly ins’t in those details. There had been attempts at exorcism. Surely if the stars didn’t align and the lines of ash and chalk didn’t quite intersect then the summoning would not complete. Skin would stay soft and bones would carry no phantom aches and his face would be his own.

But some things are hard to give up and curiosity has it’s own rewards. 

It’s somewhere within the suit. Above the shirt but below the jacket. The lining of the concept, the crease of blood boiling, pooling, soaking. A twinge in his shoulder that could be age could be his imagination could be a familiar hand resting there unexpectedly.

And then he’s standing differently. Hands that are familiar with sliding into pockets clasp at ease in front of his belt buckle. He should be smiling, laughing at his own strange indulgence but the skin around the mouth isn’t quite familiar with the shape of his own grin. Breath hitches and muscles shift and there’s a bubble of hysteria that’s smoothed away by someone else’s long-practiced ease of emptiness.

A hand smooths down a tie, flexes fingers at the tip and the breath is perfectly even but there’s a giddiness inside them. An uneasy agreement because bodies are hard things to negotiate. But there is a price and there it payment. He gets mental strength, gets restrained decorum, gets a sharpness and a critique and a new perspective. And part of him gets to breathe once more. Who could refuse such an offer?

And then fingers that have done so much more than just handle files and hover over radios easily unknot a leash of silk from around their neck. Tiny white buttons flicked over and the hot leather of a belt eased through the neat and acute buckle. His own breath would be shaking but there’s a familiarity about this now and his lungs are responding to a different set of stimuli. A hand sliding inside his pants and it should feel familiar, embarrassingly so, but it’s the most surreal thing in the world. The skin of a palm is harder, the angle of fingers slightly off. False and foreign and awkwardly familiar because this certainly isn’t the first time.

And he knows with the certainly of a resolve stronger than his own that it won’t be the last.


End file.
